Flames
by IllusiveBirds
Summary: -One shot set after Peeta plants the primroses.- "Katniss" I spin recognising the voice immediately. I am frozen in place. "Katniss!" The shrill high pitched scream of my name breaks me free and I'm running faster and faster. I have to save her.


**A/N: A one shot set after Katniss sees Peeta after he plants the primroses. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the hunger games.**

Flames

_I walk silently across the forest floor. My footsteps making barely a sound. Hearing a rustle behind me I turn silently, glancing left and right for the perpetrator, but I see nothing, only the straight tall trees that hide the sun with their great expanse of leaves. Frowning I study the area in front of me closely, searching for the presence that I know is there. I raise my bow, an arrow locked in place, but start, this is not my bow. Instead of the deep brown there is silver, almost machine like, curving bow in its place, a shining arrow quivering to be released. _

_I drop it quickly and everything around me seems to stop, but me. I feel my whole body shake as though I'm shivering, but I'm not cold, I can feel a flush of heat working its way out of my skin.._

_Gale's words come floating back to me, "You know how to kill…How different can it be?" I slowly stare down at the fallen bow. Staring at it with disgust. Because this weapon was used to hunt. Not animals but people. This is the bow I used in the arena._

"_Katniss"_

_I spin recognising the voice immediately. I am frozen in place._

"_Katniss!" The shrill high pitched scream of my name breaks me free and I'm running faster and faster._

_I have to save her._

"_Katniss!"_

_Have to save her._

"_KATNISS!"_

_Save her._

_I break through into a clearing and see her._

_She's standing there, her back to me, t-shirt sticking out at the back of her skirt. My little duck. Prim._

_Suddenly I'm shouting her name, running towards her. Screaming at her to run. She turns and I stop. The recognition on her face as she speaks my name. Slowly mouthing the words. _

_Then she's gone, in a burst of flames and I… scream, I'm screaming for her to run, run._

_Screaming and screaming and screaming._

I bolt straight up, the blanket twisted around my legs. My face screwed in a silent scream that I can still feel bubbling in the back of my throat. I gasp and choke slumping back down I put my face to my hands, wiping away the salty tears and sweat. I shift slightly and feel the icy coolness of the window next to me. I've slept on the window seat.

I stare down at the dark patch of earth, where in a few months' time, primroses will grow. For now, though there is only the muddy area that shall be the ever present reminder that she never got a real burial.

Pushing back my hair, off my sweaty forehead I glance at the clock on the mantel.

6am.

I shiver slightly and wrap the blanket round my shoulders cocooning myself in warmth. A knock on the door though, forces me to drop it again. Someone heard me screaming.

Of course it's Peeta. Shivering on the step, dark circles framing his eyes, blonde hair ruffled as though he has spent a while gripping it tight with frustration. He stares at me when I open the door, taking in my ruffled appearance. He gets straight to the point.

"I heard you screaming and I wanted to know if you were alright." He says his voice weary and tired.

"Nightmare." I mutter in response, gripping my arms around my body as the sharp wind blows in through the door. He nods his head not needing to ask. We stare at each other; it feels like more than a few hours since we last saw each other. When he planted the primroses. Prim

After a few moments, he says, "Well I should go." He turns to go but stops when I whisper,

"Stay, please."

Peeta slowly turns round, beautiful blue eyes staring at me with an emotion that I've seen in them many times before. He almost seems to be about to disagree, but it might have been how hopeless I must look, he nods his head slowly and steps into the door.

I walk into the kitchen, opening cupboards and taking out tea leaves and mug. I hear him limp into the kitchen, the scraping of the chair as he moves to sit down. A silence ensues. Not necessarily uncomfortable but not pleasant either. The kettle boils and still we have not said a word, almost as though we are waiting, waiting for the conversation we will have to have.

I turn around to find him staring at me with deep blue eyes.

"How have you been?" He asks finally, sipping the tea that I pass him, nodding his thanks but not taking his eyes of mine.

I shrug, staring at the flames that burned their way up his face and above his brow. Sitting in front of him I can see the way they coursed up his neck and cheek. He has been marked with the rebellion. A reminder of who we lost.

"Why did you come back?" I ask, staring down at the marked table.

"The capital could never be my home."

And that's true. Even now Peeta would never be able cope with the vain traditions that have spread throughout the capital.

"I also wanted to help with the rebuilding." He finishes and I notice his eyes light up slightly as though imagining what district 12 could look like.

"What are they going to do?" I say, swallowing a gulp tea and wincing as it burns its way down my throat.

Draining the rest of his cup, Peeta leans forward slightly.

"Well, we're planning on rebuilding most of the homes were destroyed first so that people can move in quickly. Then we'll move on to some of the shops, butchers, grocers …bakery."

I notice he falters as he says 'bakery'.

"Once that's done we'll fix up the mayors house and some more homes. If people want to move back home."

Frowning slightly I ask, "Do a lot of people want to move to district twelve then?"

He nods, "A lot of people who survived the bombing want to and others from different districts as well, but quite a few are staying in district 2, 4 and 6."

Like my mum and gale.

A cockerel sounds nearby and we start, both lost in thought.

"I better be off." Peeta says, rising slowly from his chair and walking towards the door. Rising with him I stand behind him as he pulls on gloves.

"Thank you." He says. "Katniss."

Standing by the open door, I nod, as he waves a hand in farewell, and close the door of the biting cold. Sighing I hope the day goes slowly, so that I won't have to go to sleep again.


End file.
